


Season of the Spirit

by TonySawicki



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Even more than usual, Exactly what you'd expect, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Nonsense, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Spoiler Warning: A Christmas Carol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonySawicki/pseuds/TonySawicki
Summary: A re-telling ofA Christmas Carol, in which Kyo encounters some Ghosts (probably not the fun kind he'd like to meet), and comes to learn some important lessons.
Relationships: Die/Kyo (Dir en grey)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 24





	Season of the Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> My Christmas gift to all of you! Have a safe and happy holiday season, everyone!

Die was straight: to begin with.

It was something Kyo had known for over twenty years, something he was reminded of every time he saw him leaning in close to whisper in some unfamiliar woman’s ear, every time he overheard Die laughing over a beer with the rest of the guys about some girl or another. It was indisputable fact, and Kyo could accept it.

Still, around the winter holidays, Kyo couldn’t help how a sort of negativity weighed down on him. Christmas was a time for lovers, for romance, and it just reminded him of what he couldn’t have.

There was so much goddamn merriment and happiness in the atmosphere as Dir en grey finished their live on Christmas Eve, early enough that everyone could get home to their festivities, Kyo just about wanted to throw something.

It wasn’t productive to feel so resentful about other people’s joy, and Kyo knew well enough that it was the type of emotion best repressed and hidden away. So he smiled at the people he passed on the way back to the dressing rooms, returned their well wishes in kind, and only let himself sulk when he was sure he was alone.

There was more to it than Christmas itself. The entire season was about celebrating, with Christmas coming right on the heels of Die’s birthday, so the focus seemed to be on him even more than usual. Even the traditional Christmas decorations were a reminder— _red_ everywhere, Die’s color.

Kyo didn’t need the extra reminders about someone he never forgot.

Kaoru came into the dressing room then, announcing his presence with a loud, deliberate sigh, and Kyo straightened up, tried to look a little less petulant at the very least.

As was customary, they didn’t really make conversation, not even to compliment each other on the evening’s performance.

Except then Kaoru was speaking, and with no one else in the room, Kyo figured it had to be to him.

“You know, the main person you’re hurting is yourself.”

Kyo glanced around, just to be absolutely sure Kaoru couldn’t be addressing anyone else. “What are you talking about?”

“Keeping all your feelings bottled up.”

“I’m getting this lecture from _you_?” Kyo scoffed. “Like you’re such a big sharer.”

“So I know better than all those emotionally healthy people just how damaging it can be,” Kaoru said, “and I know how big you are on honesty, so why is this an area that gets a pass?”

“‘This’ meaning which area?”

Kaoru moved closer, gave him a _look_ in the mirror. “Keeping all those feelings buried so deep is going to poison you from the inside out, and by the time you realize it, it will be too late to do anything with them.”

This seemed like an awfully heavy life lesson for Kaoru to suddenly impart when they really rarely discussed anything personal, but Kyo figured it was yet another thing to blame on the season. Christmas made everything seem bigger, more intense than it was. That was part of what made it so painful and overwhelming.

Kyo nodded slowly. “Wise words,” he said, not bothering to fake too much sincerity.

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” Kaoru said. “I’m just trying to help you out. You need to talk about these things, or you’re gonna end up miserable and alone, having alienated all the people trying to support you.”

“Like you?”

“Like me,” Kaoru said. “Like Die.”

Kyo whipped around to look at Kaoru properly. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“This is exactly what I mean,” Kaoru said. “I try to have an honest conversation with you, and you lash out and clam up.”

“I never asked for your input,” Kyo said.

“You never _do_ ,” Kaoru said, “even when you could use it. Like now. I say this as a friend, I don’t want you to live your life in a way that you’ll regret.”

Kyo was already regretting having engaged in this conversation. He hastily crammed his things into his bag. “Thanks for being a friend, I’ll definitely keep what you’ve said in mind.” He ignored Kaoru’s attempts to call him back, and went charging out of the dressing room to head for home.

He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, and he nearly walked right into Die before he made it out of the building.

“Hey! You taking off already?”

“Yeah,” Kyo said, trying not to look back over his shoulder too obviously. “Tired, just wanna get home.”

Die nodded. “I’ll probably leave soon myself.” It could have been the end of it, but Die pressed on, “Big plans for Christmas tomorrow?”

The noise Kyo made was rather uglier than he meant it to be, but what was maybe even worse was how Die didn’t look surprised.

“I get that you’re not that psyched about the holiday,” he said, “but even if I’ve never experienced some Christmas miracle, I believe it _has_ done me good, and _will_ do me good, and I say, why turn down an excuse to eat good food and have some drinks with your loved ones?”

Die never did turn down an opportunity like that, Kyo thought. He always had a dozen people warring for his attention, and Kyo felt like an insignificant little part of the adoring crowd.

He wouldn’t criticize Die for that kind of lifestyle, though. On the contrary, he thought it was appropriate, fitting. Die was a light that couldn’t be contained, one that ought to be shared with everyone in reach, admired by the world’s masses.

Feeling a bit guilty for his impolite response to Die’s good-natured question, Kyo cleared his throat and asked, “What do you have planned then? Something with lots of people, presumably?”

Die hesitated, and that made it worse too; Kyo didn’t want him to try to spare his feelings. But after a moment, Die smiled, as he always did. “Still up in the air as of now, but it should be a good holiday. I hope your Christmas ends up being better than you expect, too. You never know, maybe someone will invite you out tomorrow!”

Kyo seriously doubted that, and couldn’t stop himself from muttering, “I think if, at my age, I’m getting bent out of shape wishing someone would invite me to some Christmas party, I might as well just go out and get run over by a snowmobile.”

Die looked disturbed, and Kyo wished he’d managed to say something with a nicer sentiment, but there was little point in trying to backpedal now, so he just shrugged awkwardly and said goodnight before continuing on his way outside.

There were still a few fans lingering around the venue, and Kyo pulled up his collar and face mask in an effort to not be seen by them. Fans were all well and good, but he wasn’t in the mood to be accosted. Luckily the foggy night afforded him an extra layer of invisibility, so he’d probably be okay.

He held his breath as he had to walk right past one couple, but, while he was relieved they didn’t notice him, he found himself even more irritated when he realized they were just making out right there in the shadows behind the venue. Who the hell did something like that? What was this, America?

Kyo only barely concealed his audible contempt for this young romance, but he made it past without anyone approaching him.

He didn’t understand it himself. He knew it waswhat it was, but he could never see anything inherently romantic about Christmas as a holiday, and the notion of trying to spend it with someone for some candlelit dinner or sensual evening just didn’t make sense. Was he just somehow blind to the sexual appeal in pine trees and Santa Claus?

His uneventful journey home continued without his spirits picking up at all, though he was proud of himself for his small victories; he didn’t snarl at the young conbini cashier who wished him a Merry Christmas when he stopped to buy his dinner, and he didn’t get _too_ hung up looking at the little display of Christmas cakes topped with strawberries, wondering which one Die would like.

He didn’t show quite as much restraint when he was flagged down by an exceedingly pushy street vendor, closer to his townhouse.

“Young man!” she said, waving so he couldn’t possibly ignore her. “Come, look, I’ve got something just perfect for you to give to that _special someone_ for Christmas!”

He did try to be polite at first. “Thank you, but I’m not shopping for anyone.”

“What! A handsome young man like you, without a _date_? Come now, I’m sure there are _plenty_ of young women, sitting home alone right now, who would be _happy_ , _thrilled_ even, togo out with you. Christmas Eve is a perfect time for a romantic gesture!” She indicated her stall of trinkets.

“What, did we have a sudden shortage of online dating services, or of _host clubs_?” Kyo said.

The woman frowned. “Well, no, but—”

“Oh, good, had me worried for a second.”

“But some nice, proper, _traditional_ young women would rather just remain single and stay home alone forever than look for company that way! It’s not right for a girl to make the first move, you know!”

“If they’d rather remain single, then that’s fine too, and they don’t need people like _you_ playing matchmaker, trying to scrounge up dates on their behalf,” Kyo said. He waved a disdainful hand at her assorted wares. “Bah! Not right for a girl to make the first move. Bullshit!”

He left her scandalized and sputtering, and soon reached his home. He passed through the little garden out in front without much thought, as he always did, only pausing briefly as he passed a little statue of a Buddha, for it seemed, out of the corner of his eye, to look like _Penyu_ , his own creation, just for a split-second. When he stopped to look at it properly, it was the same as it ever was, and Kyo blamed the foggy night for tricking his eyes.

It was dark and cold when he entered his townhouse, but Kyo didn’t bother with turning the lights on. In a way, he’d always liked the dark and cold, taken a kind of comfort in them, and tonight was no different; he only flipped on a single lamp on the lowest setting before going and taking his bath in the dark.

He came back into the dim living room to eat his bento from the conbini without even bothering to heat it up. Maybe some part of him luxuriated in the pity party he was throwing himself, creating the most miserable Christmas Eve possible, alone in his robe with his tepid dinner.

The feeling would pass, he knew, with the holiday season. Things would return to normal, and he would still think about Die even without all the extra attention on him, but at least it was more manageable then.

Having finished his meager dinner, Kyo was just reaching to switch off the lamp and head for bed, when a cold wind blew right through the living room, ruffling his hair, and sounding like—well, it almost seemed to howl his name.

Something that sounded like shuffling footsteps followed, and Kyo shifted, turning in his chair to seek the source.

“Who’s there?” he called, even _knowing_ it was just the wind. He must have left some window open somewhere…

But the howling came again: “ _Kyo-o-o…_ ”

“I’m right here, what do you want?” Kyo snapped.

And slowly, out of the darkness crept an all-too-familiar figure—It was Penyu, standing there, life-size, in his living room.

“What the fuck,” Kyo said, mostly to himself.

No—entirely to himself. Penyu couldn’t really be there, he was a fictional character of Kyo’s own invention. Now, too, he had to only be in Kyo’s mind.

“Kyo,” Penyu said, his voice sounding eerily like Kyo’s own, “I come with a warning…”

“What is this?” Kyo demanded. “Who sent you? It was Shinya, right? His thing with mascots has gone too far.”

“I’m here to save you from yourself, so that you don’t end up sorry and alone, as you will now, if the path you are on remains unchanged.”

“Which path is that? Do I get some context here?”

“You will be visited by three Spirits,” Penyu said.

“Spirits?” Kyo echoed. “Wait, what does that make you?” His eyes slanted suspiciously towards his finished bento, the container still lying on the end table.

“I appear as someone whose warning you might heed.”

“And that’s what you went with?” Kyo scoffed. “Good way to convince me I’m fucking hallucinating.”

But even as he balked, Kyo saw the way the low light from the lamp seemed to filter right through Penyu’s form, falling on the shelves behind him. He wasn’t just someone in a suit, he truly was a…

“Why me?” Kyo said. “What kind of Spirits would take the trouble to pay _me_ a visit?”

Penyu paused, but it was impossible to read any emotion in his still expression. At length he said, “They have interest in your welfare.”

“My welfare? How is a creepy visit from the undead going to help with that?”

“All is not lost,” Penyu said. “There may be hope for you yet.”

“The fuck kind of incomprehensible fuckery is that?” Kyo said, again irritated with his own mind for cooking up such cryptic and unhelpful visions.

“There’s time for you to change,” Penyu said. “But you must heed the advice of the Spirits you meet tonight.”

“You know, I’m not really prepared for company, maybe they can stop by another time.”

“The first Spirit will appear when the clock strikes one,” Penyu said plainly, and left Kyo no time to question him further before he slunk back into the shadows and was gone.

Kyo stared at the empty space where he had been, but after a minute, rose to turn the lamp off, and said, with a snort, “Bullshit.”

On any other day, he might have leapt at the chance to see some ghosts, been eager to believe in such possibilities, but Christmas Eve? He just wasn’t feeling it.

He walked through his gloomy townhouse to brush his teeth and then got into bed, doing his utmost to not spare another thought for his bizarre Penyu waking dream. He’d be sure not to buy that same bento next time.

Sleep was not so easy to come by, but in time, Kyo drifted off—only to be awoken by the chiming of a clock he was fairly sure he didn’t own, announcing the hour of one am.

If that hadn’t woken him, surely the mysterious light pouring into his suddenly-open bedroom window would have, and Kyo had to shield his eyes as he squinted at the shimmering shape forming in the midst of all that glow.

And when the brightness dimmed and his eyes adjusted enough to see, standing there in front of his window was—

“ _Shinya_?” Kyo pushed his covers down and swung his legs out of bed. “I _knew_ you were behind this, the fucking Penyu mascot—what the _hell_ are you doing in my bedroom?”

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past,” Shinya replied.

Kyo stared at him, halfway through standing up. “Uh, no you’re not? You’re Shinya. What _is_ this?”

Shinya—or the Spirit, whatever he was—looked mildly annoyed. “Wasn’t this all explained to you? We don’t have much time.”

Kyo looked him up and down. He was still _glowing_ faintly, and while he didn’t necessarily put that past the real Shinya, his evening thus far had been just strange enough for him to temporarily suspend his disbelief.

“Fine, you’re the Ghost of Christmas Past. And you’re here to teach me some kind of lesson, is that the gist?”

The Ghost nodded. “I carry the memories of over two thousand Christmases, and I’m going to take you to visit some of them.”

Kyo’s eyebrows rose. “What, from a thousand years ago?”

“No, from your own life. Perhaps we can see where things went wrong.”

That didn’t seem very nice to say, but it was probably even more impossible to argue with this version of Shinya than the real one, so Kyo just shrugged.

“Time travel then, okay. How do you propose we do that, you got your DeLorean parked outside?”

The Ghost of Christmas Past held out a hand, and Kyo hesitantly took it, only to be yanked up out of the window an instant later.

He’d have pointed out that he himself was a human and in danger of falling to his death, but it was immediately apparent that no such thing was happening; they were flying peacefully through the air, soaring over the streets and buildings below. Whether this was a dream or a toxicologically-induced hallucination, it was a pretty good one. At least he had a nice view of the city.

“Where are we going?” he asked, since the Spirit didn’t seem too keen on explaining as they went along. They were flying steadily towards a bright light in the distance. “What is that light? It can’t be dawn yet,” Kyo said, with a growing concern that they were flying directly towards his death. He didn’t know if he believed in any popular theory of an afterlife, but _going towards the light_ was a pretty common image in media for leaving this plane of existence.

“It is the Past,” the Spirit said, “which you would know if you listened.”

“My past? I don’t remember it looking like that.”

The light stretched out its fingertips until it washed over them all at once, and there was solid ground under Kyo’s feet once more.

He squinted around in the daylight pouring through windows along one wall, stunned as it dawned on him where he was. “Jesus…”

“This place is known to you?”

“Yeah, of course it is, this is my—my junior high school.” Kyo peered in the window of the nearest classroom, and sure enough, “I decided to pursue a career in rock music in this very room!”

“Then perhaps you recognize some of the people here, as well,” the Spirit said.

That was a definite understatement, as Kyo saw not only a handful of his old classmates hanging around, but a certain round-faced boy, sitting alone, doodling in his notebook who Kyo knew to be himself before he even got in the room.

“Hey!” Kyo said, calling out to them. He hurried to the door and into the classroom, coming closer and waving. “Hey guys! Long time no see!”

“They can’t hear you,” the Spirit informed him. “These are but shadows of the Past, you can’t interact with them.”

Kyo frowned, disappointed. “Guess that’s safer for the timeline anyway,” he said.

The boys were talking and laughing amongst themselves, and one, the tallest of the group, finally called out to Kyo’s younger self, getting him to look up from his notebook.

“What about you?” the tall boy said. “You got big plans for Christmas Eve?”

The younger Kyo just looked confused. “We’re Japanese, who cares about Christmas?”

Kyo nodded approvingly at this response, but the other boys just laughed.

“Girls are super into Christmas,” one of them said. “It’s all they care about this time of year.”

“Yeah, you gotta get them a present or take them out somewhere,” the tall boy agreed. “You must want a girlfriend. Isn’t that why you hang around with girls all the time?”

“What? No.”

“You’ll never get a girlfriend if you don’t do something special for Christmas Eve.”

“So what? Love is stupid and pointless anyway,” snapped the teenage Kyo.

The other boys snickered again, whispering together, and though Kyo couldn’t hear what they said, he had a good enough idea.

“Even so young, you were so disillusioned about romance,” the Spirit observed. “Was there never someone who stirred your heart during the Christmas season?”

Kyo shook his head. “I had the right idea back then.”

The Ghost gave a noncommittal hum, and placed a hand on Kyo’s shoulder. “Let’s move on.”

The room around them spun and vanished, and Kyo looked around dazedly, unable to tell where they were now.

Before he could ask, the Spirit nodded his head towards a smallish concert venue before them, and the stage door slammed open, a group of laughing young men stumbling out of it.

One laugh rose above the others, and Kyo watched wide-eyed as a young Die strolled across the parking lot, brushing fire engine-red hair back from his face.

“But that’s—It’s Die. What are we doing here?” Kyo said.

“Do you remember this night?” the Spirit asked softly.

Because of course it wasn’t just Die. A young Kyo was there again, too, perhaps a decade older than he had been in the previous memory, shoving at Die as he threw a lanky arm around his narrow shoulders. They both looked tired and happy.

Kyo would have liked to say that he didn’t remember, that it had been so many years ago, and there had been so many evenings all alike that this one wasn’t any different, but it wasn’t true.

This had been the night he’d first realized his feelings for Die were more than just those for a friend. Somewhere in that dazed, exhausted laughter, with Die hanging on him, Kyo had gotten a hook lodged in his ribcage he’d never quite removed, even all these years later.

“We spent Christmas Eve together this year,” Kyo said.

He watched as Die leaned against their tour bus, one arm still around young Kyo. “Fuck, I’m too tired to go out tonight.”

The young Kyo looked down at the ground. “Really? It’s Christmas Eve, don’t you want to—I don’t know, find a date?”

Die laughed, dragging him closer. “What do you mean, I’ve got one right here!” He placed an exaggerated kiss on the side of Kyo’s head, only giggling more when Kyo pushed him away.

The older Kyo kept his eyes on the scene. “He really didn’t go out, even though the rest of the guys did. We sat around on the freezing tour bus together for hours, eating Christmas cake, and—and just talking.”

“Is that all?” the Spirit said. He gestured for Kyo to follow him onto the bus, where the younger Die and Kyo were already sitting on the couch, empty plates discarded on the table.

Die’s legs were across Kyo’s lap and he seemed like he’d been drinking as he said, “Okay, listen, here’s another one—‘ _Luke… You are my son…_ ’”

Kyo promptly smacked him in the chest. “Are you—Don’t be fucking stupid, that’s too easy! And it’s not even the line!”

“Wait, it’s not?”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“Fine, you do one then.”

“Okay, okay, I will.”

The young Kyo paused, thoughtful for a moment, then just as he started to open his mouth, Die surged forward.

“Wait!” he hissed, holding a finger to Kyo’s lips, eyes focused on his face.

“What is it?” Kyo raised a hand to his own cheek. “I have some cake or something?”

Die didn’t respond, but leaned in closer until the longer hair around his face was fluttering with every one of Kyo’s breaths.

One such breath formed an uncertain little, “Die?”

Everything else stopped, as Die cupped Kyo’s jaw, and Kyo stayed frozen, waiting for his next move, anticipating but not daring to drive any action himself.

At the last second before their lips touched, and as Kyo knew would happen, the tour bus door opened, heralding the return of the rest of the band, and Die pulled back, reclining in his former position as he greeted them.

Kyo rubbed his eyes as if that would make the visions dissipate. “I’ve seen enough. You know, it’s not like I don’t remember all this anyway.”

“And yet you regularly deny the facts of these events,” the Spirit said coolly.

“He was drunk,” Kyo argued. “It was just a weird… heat of the moment kind of thing. It wasn’t real.”

“Hmm.” The Spirit’s face remained impassive. “There was another Christmas the two of you spent together.”

Kyo turned towards him in alarm. “No!” he said. “Please, I don’t need to see that one.”

But the world already seemed to be swirling, a blur of color around them, the ground no longer beneath their feet.

“Can’t we just skip it? You could show me something else, something just as awful,” Kyo went on, nearly begging.

It was no use, and a second later found them in the hallway of some budget hotel, watching as Kyo and Die—aged since the last time they’d seen them, but still a good many years younger than the Kyo that viewed them now—bade the rest of the band goodnight as they all went into their rooms, and stopped to unlock another door together.

This Kyo, his hair longer, shaggy and blond, leaned against the wall, bags at his feet, while Die wrestled with the key.

“Do you want me to try?” he asked, smirking.

“I’ve got it,” Die said, though the door still refused to unlock. “I think the key is just defective.”

“Try mine.” Kyo passed over another key, but the result was much the same.

Die pounded uselessly at the door. “Let us in!”

Kyo snorted. “There’s no one in there, it’s our room.”

“I’m aware,” Die said. “Just hoping some power might hear me and feel generous, you know, in the spirit of Christmas and all that.”

“Oh, right, I’m sure.” Kyo slid down the wall, crouching there. “At least we’re together, eh?”

“Rather be together inside the room,” Die said, and crouched beside Kyo in defeat.

“We should go to the front desk.”

“Too tired.”

“Gonna just sleep out here in the hall then?”

Die patted the duffel bag nearest him, as if considering its potential as a pillow, then looked around at the other closed doors. “Maybe someone would take us in.”

“Sure, like a couple of homeless puppies.” Kyo looked at Die for a minute, while he was turned away, then stood up. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Christmas Eve, you probably just wanna get laid anyway.”

Die turned back to look up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Knock on enough random doors, you can probably find a girl lonely enough to let you share her bed for the night.”

That had Die standing too, glowering at Kyo. “Fuck you, what’s your problem all of a sudden?”

“Who says it’s sudden? I’d just forgotten it was Christmas Eve and how being stuck out here with me might put a damper on your plans.”

“I want to get into our room!” Die said, gesturing incredulously to the closed door. “I want to fucking _shower_ and get in _bed_ , and you’re making it about—I don’t even know what!”

“I’m not _making_ it about anything,” Kyo sad.

“You are,” Die said. “You always get like this at Christmas. It’s not _my_ fault you’re fucking lonely!”

Kyo opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. His fists were at his sides, his eyes wild and it looked like he might leap at Die with his claws out, but he stayed where he stood, his teeth bared.

After a moment, Die shook his head and picked up his bag from the floor. “I’m gonna go find out about our keys,” he said, and started back down the hall.

Kyo watched his younger self huff and then pick up his own luggage and march off in the opposite direction.

“That’s enough,” Kyo told the Spirit. “I get it, I—I was shitty to Die, and it was—we don’t need to see anymore.”

The Ghost cocked his head, looking at Kyo mildly. “There is one more scene, later this same night.”

Kyo shook his head. “That’s—C’mon, please, we all know how it went down.”

But the Spirit merely lifted his hand, directing Kyo’s attention to his younger self, slowly and sheepishly coming back up the hall, fidgeting with a hotel key in his hands.

He looked around when he reached the proper room, as if some part of him expected Die to be standing around waiting. But there was no one else in the hall besides Kyo and the Ghost of Christmas Past, both of whom were invisible to him.

Resignedly, the younger Kyo put the key in the hotel door, and this time it unlocked without any issue—but the door still didn’t open, as it was stopped by the chain.

Kyo pushed at it, muttering confusedly, until a few seconds later the door closed with a snap, and opened again to reveal Die, cheeks flushed and his shirt hanging open. There was a smear of lipstick on his neck.

“Hey, Kyo, I didn’t know if you were coming back,” he said, still blocking him from entering the room.

“You got a working key,” Kyo said. “I got one, too,” he added in a flat voice.

“Cool.” Die looked over his shoulder into the room, and then back at Kyo. “Listen, you think you could crash in Kaoru’s room tonight?”

“You’ve… got someone in there?”

“That’s what you wanted me to do, right?” Die said, and there was a coldness in his voice that someone less close to him might not have detected. “It is Christmas Eve, after all.”

“Spirit, let us go away from this,” Kyo said, looking away from the scene. “Please, I can’t stand it.”

He kept his face turned away as his younger self made a sad and clumsy attempt to take back his earlier words. He already knew every sentence that would come out of his mouth, knew every line in Die’s stony face as he waited for him to finish. He didn’t need it brought before his eyes to see it clear as day.

“I don’t see why I should feel bad for wanting to spend Christmas Eve _with_ someone,” Die said quietly, most likely to keep his date from overhearing. “That’s what normal people _do_.”

“But—but, you could have spent it—with me,” the younger Kyo said, his voice cracking.

His older counterpart tugged at the Ghost of Christmas Past’s sleeve. “Please make them stop,” he said, close to tears himself. “Is there no end to the suffering you’ll put me through?”

The Ghost looked at him a bit sadly, but not quite sympathetically. “I told you before: These are but shadows of what has been, that they are what they are, do not blame me.”

His utter lack of feeling about it only angered Kyo. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You get off on torturing people like me, with a life full of regrets?” He let go of the Spirit’s sleeve and sneered, “There’s fuck-all I can do about the past now anyway, so you might as well take me home and fuck off!”

He made another grab for the Spirit, but then he barely blinked and he was back in his own dark bedroom, alone, with no evidence at all that he’d ever left.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, pushing his hair back from his forehead. Whatever that nightmare had been, at least it was over and he could go another long while without reliving some of his worst holiday memories.

Before he could really think about lying down and going back to sleep, the clock struck again, two o’clock this time, and he froze, expecting a new supernatural attack.

Still his room remained peaceful and dark, and he would have breathed a sigh of relief had it not been for the light suddenly showing through the crack around his door from the living room.

He hesitated, but figured he’d do better to get it over with, and opened the door to peek out.

What he found was both surprising and not: Toshiya sat there, lounging on a throne made of Christmas cakes, fried chicken, and an alarming amount of alcohol. He raised his beer in greeting when he saw Kyo.

“Hey, man! Come on in and get to know me better!”

Kyo went warily, trying to remind himself that although this being _looked_ like Toshiya it was likely to be something powerful and otherworldly.

“Have a beer!” Toshiya said, gesturing to the massive supply of booze surrounding him.

“Um, that’s okay, I’m good,” Kyo said, hoping it wasn’t impolite to reject an offer from—whatever this was.

“Do you know me?”

Kyo shrugged uncertainly. “I’m guessing you’re not Toshiya.”

The Spirit doubled over with uproarious laughter, his beer sloshing on Kyo’s living room floor. “You guess correctly!” Pulling himself upright, he said, “I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.”

“Sure, that tracks,” Kyo said. “Gonna fly me around and show me something terrible?”

The Spirit laughed again as he got to his feet. He was dressed in a long robe, with tacky fringe trim. It was tied with a sash, but left open at the chest, displaying his intimidating pectorals, and creating a funny contrast with the strange sort of crown of holly leaves on his head. He seemed to tower over Kyo even more than Toshiya did normally.

“My time on this earth is limited,” he informed Kyo, “so we’d better get a move on.”

Resigned to another round of surreal Christmas visions, Kyo nodded and held out his hand.

The Ghost looked down at it and passed Kyo his beer.

“No, I—” Before Kyo could hand it back, the Spirit had produced another out of thin air, and smiled cheerfully at Kyo, perhaps pleased that they were drinking together. Kyo hurriedly set the beverage down among all the others when the Spirit looked away.

“Hold on to my robe, we gotta go quick!”

Kyo did as he was told, and the scene around them blinked out in an instant, everything from the Christmas cakes to the beer soaking into his living room rug. They were outside on a bright and unfamiliar snow-lined street, people milling merrily past them.

“What’s this?” Kyo asked, confused. “I thought we were doing present now, but it can’t be daytime.”

“Christmas morning!” said the Ghost, gesturing broadly to the atmosphere of joy and celebration around them. “It’s a magical day!”

Kyo tried and failed to contain one of his snorts of skepticism.

The Spirit looked down on him disapprovingly. “You know, when there are people out here happy, having a good time, and you’re home alone sulking, I hardly think you’re in a position to show disdain for _them_.”

Kyo snapped his mouth shut. The real Toshiya never scolded him like that, and the new experience was not one Kyo felt eager to repeat. He watched silently as the Spirit went on, pointedly showing him the jubilation of total strangers, going about their Christmas Day traditions, laughing and singing and throwing haphazard snowballs at one another. He was dimly aware that such merriment ought to spark joy in his own heart as well just by witnessing it, but it only seemed to make his loneliness more pronounced.

Still, they walked along the road, and Kyo got the idea that he was, albeit slowly, being led somewhere, though he still didn’t recognize anything in particular about this area of the city.

At last, the Spirit stopped in front of a nondescript house and smiled brightly at Kyo. “Shall we have a look inside?”

Kyo held back a sigh, doubting how much say he actually had in the matter, and in another moment they were in the house, faced, to Kyo’s immense surprise, with his sukekiyo bandmates.

They were all there, gathered around the kotatsu and drinking, their faces rosy with alcohol and good company, as music played from the stereo and the lights of a nearby miniature Christmas tree blinked jovially, as if the tree were just another guest at the party.

Kyo tried to wave at them as they clinked their glasses together, but it was no use trying to get their attention; as had been the case with the memories of his past, no one there could see him.

He turned to the Spirit. “I don’t understand, what are they all doing here?”

Once again, the Ghost gave him a rather reproachful look, and, gesturing with his own beer—which had replenished itself when Kyo wasn’t looking—said, “They’re drinking.”

Kyo scowled. “Yes, I can see that, but _why_ are they all here, together? We didn’t have any recording or anything scheduled, it’s Christmas!”

“I guess Kyo’s not coming then?”

Kyo whipped back around to look at his bandmates at the sound of his own name.

Takumi was shaking his head.

“You didn’t even invite him, did you?” Mika said.

“What would be the point?” Takumi said. “He wouldn’t have shown up.”

“He’d have made some excuse,” Uta agreed.

“And even if he _had_ come,” Takumi said with a grimace, “well, we all know how he is about Christmas.”

“That’s true,” Yuchi said. “At least without him here, we know we can have a good time without him bringing us down.”

Kyo’s mouth dropped open in shock as the others laughed. He couldn’t believe this betrayal. How could they all get together and specifically not invite him?

The Spirit must have been able to read his thinking because he asked, “Would you have gone if Takumi had invited you?”

“I might ha—”

“To a _Christmas_ party?”

Kyo frowned, thinking. It was true that he tended to reject invitations to any Christmas events without a second thought, but he always _enjoyed_ his time spent with his sukekiyo bandmates. Hearing that the feeling was not mutual was surprisingly painful.

“Don’t take it so hard,” the Spirit said, and for a moment Kyo forgot he wasn’t Toshiya again. “After all, if at your age, you’re getting bent out of shape wishing someone would invite you to some Christmas party, you might as well just go out and get run over by a snowmobile, right?”

Kyo looked at him in shock, hearing his own words repeated back to him this way. He could see that he was in the wrong, but even knowing he’d created this misery and isolation himself, Kyo didn’t like to see his friends _celebrating_ his absence.

“You’re all alike,” he complained. “Trying to bully me, like I don’t hate Christmas enough as it is.”

“There’s precisely your problem,” the Spirit said. “Seeing it as an _attack_ , when we’re just showing you things as they are. Come, let us see another home on this fine Christmas day.”

With a wave of his beer they were in another house, this one only fractionally more familiar than the last. The biggest point of reference for Kyo was the handsome cat that went trotting down the hall ahead of them, leading them straight to Die, sitting at his desk in front of his laptop.

For a moment, Kyo hung back, watching, wondering whether it was really Die or another Spirit modeled after someone from his life, but the easy way he welcomed the cat onto his lap, scratching behind its ears automatically, convinced him he was the real deal.

He didn’t bother asking what they were doing there, just let his full attention stay on Die, who was apparently in the middle of a video call with his parents.

“ _Did you change your hair again?_ ” his mother was saying.

“Not since last time you saw it,” Die said.

“ _It looks different, are you sure?_ ”

Die pushed the long golden locks back over his shoulder. “Probably just the lighting. Anyway, you never told me, did you guys get the gift I sent?”

“ _You know you shouldn’t have!_ ” his mother said.

“ _She’s saying that, but she loved it_ ,” his father contributed. “ _She’s been showing it off to everyone_.”

“ _Stop that, I have not!_ ”

Die was just smiling fondly at the screen, one hand still idly petting his cat as his parents carried on.

“ _We don’t want to take up all your time_ ,” his mother said then. “ _I’m sure you have lots of things to do and people to see on Christmas…_ ”

“No, you’re fine,” Die assured her. “I don’t actually have anything else planned today, we can talk as long as you like!”

That statement surprised Kyo enough that for the first time since catching sight of him, he looked away from Die and around his home. It was quiet, and aside from a few festive decorations, he could see nothing to even suggest it was a holiday. Nothing was set up for any kind of party today, nor did it appear that any great celebration had occurred the night before; all was tidy and calm and normal.

Kyo frowned. It wasn’t how he expected Die to spend Christmas, not from how warmly he talked about it.

It seemed that Die’s mother was on the same page as she said, “ _I don’t like to think of you spending Christmas all by your lonesome. What’s it going to take for you to find a nice girl and settle down?_ ”

Die’s smile turned a bit sad. “C’mon, you know how it is, with my music and everything…”

“ _I don’t mean settling down and giving up all of that_ ,” his mother said. “ _But you need_ love _in your life. How long has it been since you’ve had a steady girlfriend?_ ”

“Ah, geez, mom,” Die said, looking off to the side. He ran his fingers through his hair, his face gone sort of distant and pensive. “It’s… I’m just waiting for the right person to come around, I guess.”

Kyo didn’t see how that could be right. After all, it was _Die_ ; he was compatible with everyone, he was impossible not to love. There was no one he couldn’t get to fall into his arms with a single smile.

But then all at once it struck Kyo that he was meant to _learn_ something from these horrible visions, and he put it together: his past shaming of Die for his casual relationships and interest in spending Christmas Eve with someone had had a lasting negative impact on Die’s personal life. It was _Kyo’s fault_ that Die was lonely now.

“I get it,” he said to the Spirit. “I take full responsibility, and I… It won’t happen again. You’re all right. My selfishness has hurt Die—and other people—in ways that I haven’t realized. I need to make things right.”

The Ghost just stared at him. “Is that seriously what you’ve gotten from all this?”

“What, that’s wrong?” Kyo said, disappointed.

“You must suck at Shinya’s puzzle games.”

Kyo didn’t bother to remark that he usually wasn’t invited to play that kind of thing.

“I’m not gonna spell it out for you,” the Ghost said.

“I’m trying to follow the story here,” Kyo said. “What I said to Die in the past fucked things up. He shouldn’t be alone on Christmas!”

“Well what, is there a shortage of host clubs, of online dating services?” the Spirit said mockingly.

“Why do you throw my words back in my face?” Kyo demanded, feeling more and more helpless.

“If you don’t like to hear them now, perhaps you shouldn’t have said them _then_ ,” the Ghost replied, and finished his beer. Presently he wobbled where he stood, a crease appearing between his brows.

Kyo reached out to steady him on instinct. “Spirit,” he said, “do you… grow drunk?”

“Oh, yeah, my alcohol tolerance on this globe is _very_ low.”

“Then maybe—” Kyo bit his tongue. He’d been going to say he shouldn’t have been drinking so much, but then maybe it was precisely such judgmental comments that had been harmful to Die before. “Maybe we ought to get you home,” he said instead.

“Home?” the Spirit said. “My time here shall end upon the stoke of twelve.”

Not the damn clocks again. Kyo looked around for a clock of the sort to which the Ghost referred, but even as he turned, the walls of Die’s home fell away and they were outside in the fog once more, the huge Ghibli clock outside the Nippon Television headquarters looking down on them. It started to toll.

“Wait,” Kyo said, “don’t go yet! I really felt like I was starting to learn from you. At least explain to me—What am I supposed to get from all this?”

“The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is next,” the Spirit said, straightening his holly crown on his head.

“Like the future? And he’ll explain everything?”

The Spirit laughed jovially. “You do always crack me up,” he said, and as the clock struck twelve, he faded away into the mist.

Kyo didn’t have to wait long for the appearance of the next Spirit, though it was hardly what he expected.

Rather than showing up as one of his familiar bandmates, this Spirit was dark and hooded, barely more than a shadow, long robes moving like smoke as it drifted silently towards him.

On the one hand, Kyo thought: _Badass, I wonder if he’s all scabby and gross under there_. But also, this spectral figure was about a thousand times more spooky and unsettling than anyone else he’d encountered tonight.

“Am I now in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?” Kyo asked, feeling this guy required a little more deference than he’d given the others at the outset. He sort of regretted not having been more respectful with them, too, now that he thought of it.

The Spirit did not reply, except perhaps to incline its dark, faceless head, and Kyo at once gathered that it was not going to be a chatterbox.

“Well, take me where you will,” Kyo said, spreading his arms. “I’m really going to do my best to understand the message you’re sending me.”

The Ghost merely raised one hand and pointed, and Kyo understood well enough that he was meant to head in that direction.

They walked for a time, but it was not quite like walking, for Kyo felt himself dragged along in the wake of this phantom, who left no footsteps where it trod, and the scenery around them changed in an irregular blur, until they came to a stop in front of a respectable, upscale hotel.

Kyo looked up at its glossy windows, the awning lined with lights and garland, decorated for Christmas. “Why have you brought me here?”

As before, the Spirit only pointed, indicating for them to go inside, and so they did, past cheerful people loitering in the lobby and into a wide open room where groups were clustered, standing or at tables, talking and looking serious.

Kyo recognized some of the people here, and came upon one small group where Kaoru—a bit older than Kyo knew him—stood with a few others, sipping a glass of something or other, dressed in a dark suit, sharp and put-together.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” he was saying. “I wish I could say it did. But after everything that happened…”

“Still, I’d have thought he’d come to _this_ ,” said another member of the cluster.

Kaoru shook his head. “In the end, he showed who he really cares about: _himself_.”

Kyo didn’t like the sound of this conversation. He didn’t like how dark and severe it was, and he didn’t like that he didn’t know who it was about.

He looked around, craning his neck trying to see over the tops of people’s heads, hoping to see—someone, anyone who might ease the dread in the pit of his stomach.

“It sounds harsh to say,” Kaoru went on, “but I do believe he’s going to be alone and deeply unhappy for his whole life—He knows it as well as I do! And he has no one to blame but himself.”

Kyo took a few steps back, and turned to the Spirit. Jerking a thumb towards the group, he tried to deflect his own discomfort with humor, saying, “Sucks to be the loser they’re talking about, huh?”

The Spirit, predictably, did not react.

Kyo swallowed, and turned again, still searching for familiar faces in the crowd. If only he could spot his future _self_ , that would alleviate his anxiety somewhat. Or, if he could find _Die_ , and eliminate the dark fear he didn’t want to acknowledge, caused by the _funereal_ air of the formally-dressed people around him.

“I just think it’s a shame,” a woman said, somewhere behind him. “I hope he’s able to make peace someday, even if only with himself.”

Another voice replied, “And I think it’s a shame that we’re standing around here talking about _him_ , when there are other people far more deserving of our attention today.”

Growing panicky, Kyo reached out beseechingly to the Ghost. “Please, where is Die? Let me see him, let me see that he is alive and well, even at this solemn occasion.”

With a wave of the Spirit’s robes, the scene around them changed, to what looked like a sort of dressing room, empty save for Die, dressed in black and sitting at the counter in front of a mirror. Kyo’s initial relief at seeing him was dampened when he saw the look on Die’s face: he had been crying, and his exhaustion was obvious even as he sat there, calmly touching up his makeup, then adjusting his hair, which already looked perfect.

“Spirit,” Kyo said, “what has happened to bring such grief and unhappiness upon him? Can’t we see him laughing, smiling as he should be doing always?”

But Die sat alone, hanging his head, no longer crying, but taking deep, steadying breaths, as Kyo had seen him do when he needed to keep control of his emotions.

It was so quiet there, it felt even more wrong to Kyo than when he’d been shown Die alone in his home on Christmas. Especially when it was so clear that Die was suffering, how could he have been left to do so in solitude?

Kyo longed to reach out to him, to speak, offering comfort, or at least hearing what troubled him so greatly, but he’d learned his lesson, that these shadow figures could neither see nor hear him, and even kneeling beside him would be a meaningless gesture.

Both he and Die were startled by a soft but sudden knock at the door.

“Die?” called a voice Kyo didn’t recognize. “Are you in there? Everyone is kind of starting to wonder where you disappeared to…”

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m coming,” Die said, straightening up and pushing his hair back. “You can let them know I’ll be out in a minute.”

There was the sound of footsteps receding as the person at the door went off. Die took another minute to gather himself together, then he stood, twisted a gold band around his ring finger, and crossed the room to open the door.

Kyo could only stand speechless and watch him walk out into the hallway. The hotel, the formal attire, the people gathered—not a funeral at all. A wedding. _Die’s_ wedding.

And Die was _still_ alone.

After a moment, Kyo rushed after him, ending up back in the crowded hall, more determined than ever to see _himself_.

No matter where he looked, there was no sign of him, but he refused to give up. After all, this was the future, he had no way of knowing what he’d look like, his hair, his clothes. He had to be there somewhere.

In desperation, he turned again to the Spirit who had been trailing silently after him as he wove through tables and groups of people, looking for his own visage. “Who was that poor, lonely soul that Kaoru and the others spoke of? Will you just tell me that much?”

The Spirit once more lifted its hand, pointing.

Kyo twisted round to look, but saw nothing and no one there.

Slowly, the Spirit advanced, moving in that direction, its one creepy hand still outstretched.

“Please, speak to me,” Kyo begged. “Tell me, are these the shadows of what _will_ be, or is it more of a _maybe_ kinda deal, and there’s still time to change it?”

The Specter continued to point, unfazed, moving in its eerie, unrelenting way—towards the table of wedding gifts.

“There’s an infinite number of possible futures,” Kyo insisted. “You can’t know for sure things will end up like this!”

The Spirit came to a stop in front of the table, and Kyo followed its hand that seemed to be shaking slightly as it pointed at one simple card:

“ _Sorry I couldn’t make it. Best wishes, Kyo_ ”

“No!” Kyo cried, falling to his knees. “Let me change the course of these terrible events!” He clutched at the Spirit’s ethereal robes. “You wouldn’t all have ganged up on me like this if I was beyond all hope! Penyu said!” He couldn’t be bothered to hide the tears falling when there was no one there to see him but this Spirit anyway, and the jury was still out honestly on whether it could _see_. “I can change my ways, learn to be more—more open-hearted, tell my true feelings, embrace the joy and romance of Christmas and keep it throughout the year, despite my spiritual misgivings, just please tell me I might white-out my _name_ from that store-bought _card_!”

Boldly, he reached for the Spirit’s hands, caught them both in his own, and felt them trembling with unspoken emotion. Looking down upon them he saw one bore a tattoo in a snakeskin pattern, and when he lifted his eyes once more to the void where the Spirit’s face should have been, all he saw was his own bedroom ceiling.

Yes, Kyo was back in his very own bed once more, tangled up in his very own covers as sunlight streamed in through his very own window.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, and stumbled out of bed, scrambling awkwardly to the window. He fumbled with it a moment, then got it open, and spotted a boy down on the street. “Hey, you!” he called out. “What day is it today?”

“Ha?” The kid looked up at him, perplexed. “Today? It’s December 25th.”

“That’s Christmas,” Kyo said to himself. “I haven’t missed it! The Spirits did it all in one night. Well, shit, I guess they can do whatever the fuck they want. Of course they can. Of course they can!”

Closing his window, he started pacing arbitrarily around his room, trying to work out what needed to be done. He had a chance to turn things around, to bring about a different future from the majorly depressing one that had been shown to him, and it all started today.

He could see to it that Die didn’t spend Christmas alone.

It was Christmas morning, and Kyo didn’t want to waste it, so he threw on some clothes without thinking about it, and went bustling out the door, giving the Buddha statue in the garden an affectionate pat as he passed.

On his way to the train station he once more encountered the street vendor from the night before, who, understandably, recoiled when she caught sight of him.

He approached anyway, with his best _friendly_ expression.

“Hello and Merry Christmas! I want to say how sorry I am for my, ah, outburst last night. I think I _will_ buy one of your charming little trinkets after all.”

She gaped at him in obvious surprise. “You will?”

Kyo nodded, and bent to inspect them all more closely. He selected a sturdy silver bangle with a few tiny stars etched along the edges, thinking it was of a decent size and would suit Die well.

Upon paying for it and tucking it away in its box, Kyo had a thought, and pulled a few more bills from his wallet. “And here, let this pay for another twenty items, so that any gloomy-looking single person you see passing by today can get a bit of Christmas cheer, sponsored by me.” He handed over the money and hoped the woman would do as he suggested, and not just pocket the cash. Judging by her delighted holiday greetings called after him, he thought she’d be all right.

Once he got on the train, Kyo made a point to send a sincerely cheerful Christmas LINE message to each of his bandmates, in both sukekiyo and Dir en grey—except for Die, who he was planning on catching by surprise. As an afterthought, he send messages to their managers, too, and then tucked his phone away so he could keep his attention on his plan.

He’d rarely been to Die’s home, maybe only once or twice outside his visit with the Spirit, so he almost missed the right stop, but he made it all right in the end, and felt luck was truly on his side when he passed a Kentucky Fried Chicken on the way to Die’s street.

After years of keeping his feelings bottled up, Kyo found himself poised to knock on Die’s door on Christmas Day, with a bucket of chicken in the crook of one arm and his heart in his throat. The conversation he’d been avoiding for two decades lay just on the other side of the threshold. He knocked.

Die answered, looking soft and bemused, clearly not expecting company.

“Merry Christmas,” Kyo said, before he could even ask what the hell he was doing there. There was no point in trying to pretend this was anything but what it was, not when he was carrying chicken.

Die stepped aside to let him in, smiling uncertainly. “You brought me chicken?”

“Well, it’s Christmas,” Kyo said. He removed his shoes and followed Die into the living room, setting the chicken down on the kotatsu. “I thought, if you don’t have any other plans, we could eat it together.”

“That’s… Yeah, sure,” Die said, his smile growing. “I have to call my folks later, but other than that, I’m free. I’d love to have some chicken with you.”

“And I have a gift for you, too.” Kyo produced the little box holding the bangle from his coat pocket.

Die’s eyes widened. “A gift? But we never do gifts!”

“I know,” Kyo said. “It’s nothing much. But I wanted you to have something, because—because I need you to know how much I care about you.”

“Kyo,” Die said, expression softening as he accepted the box, “that’s so thoughtful…”

Kyo shook his head. “I should have told you years ago, should have made my feelings known that first Christmas Eve we spent together on the tour bus, but I was too scared. And my cowardice hurt you.” He took a breath, chanced a step closer to Die. “I never want my own stubbornness and fear to cause you pain again, so, this is me, taking a risk, hoping to change the course of our future.”

Die was just staring at him, perhaps not quite comprehending, so Kyo moved slowly as he rose up on his tiptoes and tilted his face to capture Die’s lips in a kiss.

Kyo’s heart was beating so fast and so hard he was afraid it would bruise his chest from the inside, but Die was perfectly still, neither moving towards Kyo nor pulling away.

Until all at once he was dropping the box, grabbing Kyo with both hands to pull him flush against him, and sneaking his tongue past Kyo’s chapped lips. He tasted spicy and sweet, the way Kyo had known he would without thinking about it, and Kyo could feel him smiling into the kiss.

Die's eyes were bright when they finally broke apart. “You know, you’re supposed to do that under the mistletoe.”

Kyo looked around the living room. “Seems like it must just be a flaw in your decorating, because I might be moved to kiss you anywhere.” He looked down, and, pointing to the fallen box, added, “You dropped your present.”

“You mean my _other_ present.” And truly, Die’s smile outshone any gift man had power to give.

In the end, a very merry Christmas was had by all. Kyo had no further middle-of-the-night run-ins with spirits, but all who knew him came to think of him as an open and loving person, in his own grudging and awkward way. And so, as Darth Vader observed, God bless Us, Every One!


End file.
